


Break Room Drama

by Long_Time_QT



Series: Love and Tragedy in Night Vale [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Ambiguity, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, Blood, Dark, Dark Powers, Implied Character Death, Light Powers, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Post Episode 70B, Post Review, Powerful Cecil, Powerful Kevin, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4614114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Long_Time_QT/pseuds/Long_Time_QT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cecil had no idea how long he had been trapped in this room, tied by his hands to an exposed wall stud and long cooled blood soaking through his clothes, but someone had to have noticed his broadcast had yet to begin. An intern at the very least must have noticed there was no one to give coffee to in the booth."</p><p>Or the one where Kevin pops in for a friendly visit!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Room Drama

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers. I hope you enjoy this fic. Or at the very least, let it give you a sense of security in knowing that none of what you're about to read has happened to you. If you feel disturbed by its contents, good. Embrace the disturbance. Let it comfort you with the knowledge that you did, at one time, feel.
> 
> (Okay, after I post this I need to go shower and reflect on whatever chain of events occurred in my life that lead to me writing this abomination)

 

The break room of the radio station was large, slick with blood, and littered with what Cecil could only assume were the scattered remains of bones broken by the repetitive hammering of a large, blunt object. Bits of organ meat and viscera were haphazardly strewn over chairs, the walls, and the recently installed coffin in the far corner.

The coffin had recently been installed as a friendly reminder of the frailty of the human condition and the inevitability of the day when the soul would be violently expelled from its own withered corpse. Now however, covered in what once held life, the coffin loomed menacingly, taunting him with its bloody and shadowed interior.

Cecil had no idea how long he had been trapped in this room, tied by his hands to an exposed wall stud and long cooled blood soaking through his clothes, but someone had to have noticed his broadcast had yet to begin. Station Management should have induced the standard flashes of deaths long since passed and wailing screeches that accompanied any and all tardiness. An intern at the very least must have noticed there was no one to give coffee to in the booth.

Although, Cecil noticed as he looked down next to where he sat at what must have been someone’s left parietal bone, that bit of skull looked an awful lot like it belonged to Intern Lisa. He’d have to issue an apology and message of condolences once he was able to get back on the air.

“Hello?” he said tentatively into the empty room, “Listeners?”

No response, but that wasn’t surprising. After all, there was a reason they were called ‘listeners’ and not ‘conversationalists’.

The door opened and Cecil whipped his head toward the sound. There he saw that monster. That _nightmare_ of a man’s head, presumably still attached to his body, peered into the room. That ever present and absolutely sickening smile of his was almost as haunting as those hollow, hollow eyes.

“Hello, Cecil,” he said in a chipper voice that was perhaps a little louder than what it should have been.

“Hello, Kevin,” Cecil replied, because it was the polite thing to do, but he let his derision and spite linger in the tone. He may not remember how he came to be in this position, but Kevin must have been involved somehow and should therefore know the extent to which Cecil was not impressed.

“Wow,” Kevin’s smile grew impossibly wider, “Looks like someone came down with a bad case of the grumps. What’s got you so upset, friend?”

“Where is everyone?” Cecil asked dangerously, “Why are you here? And why does this all have to happen when I should be on the air?”

“Silly-billy,” Kevin chuckled, “You _are_ on the air! See that cell phone there? It’s wired into the soundboard, which is wired into the radio tower. It’s a neat little trick I learned in my school days. Isn’t it just so great how those little lessons you learn in school can really help you later in life? Right now we’re being broadcast to all of Night Vale!”

Cecil didn’t bother to point out most schools frowned upon students (former, current, and future) using their education in the real world. They deemed it unnecessary and far too dangerous to use for daily activities, such as paying taxes or setting up a 401k or unlearning the phrase ‘boys will be boys’. Schools even set up their curriculum in such a way as to discourage such risky behavior. Instead Cecil looked down to the place Kevin had indicated with a nod of his head. There was in fact a cell phone, lying amidst shattered remains of metatarsals and patella bones, about two feet from where he sat.

“I’ve used that trick before,” Cecil spoke loudly enough for the phone to pick up his voice. He was a reporter after all, and trapped in a bloodied room or not, he must report. It was just who he was. What he was.

“Really?” Kevin laughed, “Wow, what are the odds we would _both_ know that trick? How wonderful!”

“There’s a very high chance,” Cecil said impatiently, “We’re both radio hosts.”

“Of course we are,” Kevin’s smile grew smaller.

“Yes. We are.”

A tense pause.

“I’m here for _you_ , Cecil,” Kevin continued as though they hadn’t veered slightly off topic, “You and your quaint little town. This should have happened earlier but you didn’t want to stay in the desert otherworld. So of course, I had to march right on over here to give you the friendly hello you missed out on!”

“Night Vale is my home,” Cecil snarled, “Everything, everyone I love is here. I belong here, among others, who also belong here.”

“Yes, I read something very similar to that not long ago,” Kevin said with a wistful smile though his eyes betrayed something deeper. Something darker.

“Oh?” Cecil prompted with both impatience and… nervousness. No, not nervousness. Concern.

“In a note I received from a very dear friend,” Kevin sighed, “A note that struck my heart in such a painful way. Why, I was so upset I was only able to put ninety-nine percent of myself into my work that day!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Speaking of!” Kevin continued excitedly, “I have a surprise for you, Cecil. Just hold tight. I’ll be right back.”

Kevin’s head disappeared, still presumably attached to his body, and made his way down the hall. Presumably.

Cecil shifted uncomfortably. His hands were static. Not literal static like you would hear on the radio or see on your television, but the kind of static that reminded you that your body requires your heart to pump and for your blood to travel its way through the vessels of your body unobstructed. Something that either you or circumstances beyond your control have ensured couldn’t happen.

“Listeners,” Cecil began tentatively, unsure if the small collaboration of metal and plastic could pick up the sound of his voice clearly from where it was, “I don’t know what Kevin has planned, or how much of his plan has already been set in motion, but I assure you I will not go down without a fight. If any of you are in a position to take a stand against this fiendish villain I suggest you do. Stand. Fight! If we band together, we can—“

The door swung open again and someone was thrown into the room. A familiar someone. A special someone, who Cecil knew intimately. _No. No this could not be. Not him. Not here._

Carlos stumbled with his hands bound behind his back, but he was overbalanced and the floor was slick. He fell to the ground with a sickening _splat!_ Dark blood stood stark against the white of his once pristine, now ruined white lab coat and clung to his once perfect, now matted hair.

“Carlos…” Cecil said for a lack of anything better to say.

Carlos groaned and clumsily pushed himself up onto his elbow. He blinked his eyes blearily. He blinked again. Finally, his eyes roved across the room until they locked onto Cecil’s. He blinked again.

“Cecil?” his voice was uncertain. He looked around at the gore surrounding them, “This is definitely not barbeque sauce.”

“Oh, Carlos,” Kevin gushed as he stepped fully into the room, and Cecil noted that his head was indeed still attached to his body, “You’re always _so_ funny!”

“Kevin _nnn_ ,” Cecil growled with every ounce of impotent fury he had, “What vile thing are you planning on doing?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise,” Kevin grinned, “Not when we’ve barely gotten started!”

“What are you talking about?” Carlos asked, his perfect voice welling with confusion as he eyed Kevin like he couldn’t comprehend who or what he was seeing, “Kevin, why are you doing this?”

“Oh Carlos, you didn’t think I’d just let you leave New Desert Bluffs, now did you? After you abandoned me, how could I _not_ include you in this?”

“I told you in my letter why I had to leave,” Carlos defended, “The desert otherworld, it was very scientific, yes, and it was a wonderful place to live once we built that town. But after I lost all my research, I couldn’t bear to stay and start over. My home is here. In Night Vale with the one I love immeasurably more than science. I’d already been away from him for far too long. I thought that as my friend you would understand.”

 _Oh, Carlos._ Cecil’s heart swelled. In every sense of the word.

“We could have had something, Carlos,” Kevin’s hollow, _hollow_ eyes seemed sad. Even so, his smile was still broad and sharp like the edge of a knife.

A brightness seemed to assault the room. Wait, a brightness _was_ assaulting the room. It wasn’t the fluorescent lights, that Cecil knew for sure, but something caused a searing radiance reminiscent of the desert sun on a brittle and cracked terrain. The source of the horrid brightness seemed to be coming from Kevin. Wait, it _was_ coming from Kevin.

That vile monstrosity took a step closer to dear, perfect Carlos and pulled a serrated golden blade from the luminescence surrounding him, “But you left.”

Cecil was fuming. That miscreant, that _malefactorous_ _monster_ of a man was going to mar Carlos. Cecil struggled uselessly against his bonds.

“ _Get away from him_!” his voice was thunderous as a terrified Carlos shuffled away from an advancing Kevin. Carlos slipped and slid in his attempts to distance himself. Blood splashed and splattered with every fall, and further stained a once beautiful lab coat. Kevin eyes the blood soaked cloth avidly.

“You look so perfect in that,” his voice sounded strained in a completely odious way, “But… maybe it would be better if some of it was yours. I know I’d love to get my hands on those teeth! They’re like a military—“

“ _Don’t even THINK about finishing that sentence!”_ Cecil roared. Carlos backed up until he hit the wall. There was nowhere else for him to go.

“Why?” Carlos pleaded with Kevin, his voice cracking, “Why are you- I- I thought you changed. I- We- We were friends.”

Kevin knelt down in front of Carlos and leaned forward until they were nearly nose-to-nose, “My dear, dear scientist. Of course we’re still friends! It’s just that I don’t have a lot of patience for people who aren’t _productive._ ”

With a glint of light, Kevin had stabbed the blade into Carlos’ chest and Cecil’s heart stopped. Carlos choked out a cry as Kevin withdrew the blade. Blood seeped from the wound and although it hadn’t seemed to strike anything vital, there was no denying the pain in Carlos’ otherwise enthralling obsidian eyes.

Cecil was downright _murderous._

 A darkness seemed to settle in the room. Wait, a darkness _was_ settling in the room. Though Kevin’s light wasn’t dimming, it was as if its charring and oppressive beams were being consumed by some fluid and yielding force. The source of the darkness seemed to be coming from him. Wait, it _was_ coming from him.

Kevin turned his attention to Cecil and his gruesome smile grew the widest Cecil could remember seeing it, “I’m so glad you’re finally joining us, Cecil. Don’t worry. You’ll get your turn. First I have to show you why you never take things that should belong to other people. Then we can get down to business.”

Cecil didn’t know what was going on or why it felt so familiar but he felt shadows manifest around him and he hoped against hope this new power would allow him to save his beloved Carlos.

Carlos, who was looking at him with an odd mix of terror, confusion, and _wonder._

Kevin had turned back to Carlos and raised the blade again. Cecil urged the shadows to manifest faster. _Shadows crept into his skin._ There wasn’t enough time. _Darkness swam in his blood._ There had to be enough time. _It was clouding his mind now._ He couldn’t lose—

“ _CARLOS_!”

“It’s okay, Cecil,” Carlos swallowed, eyed now riveted on the red-stained blade, “A scientist is always fine. A scientist is always

 

\--

 

“Listeners, I know I usually begin our show with a cute little colloquialism or some neat life hacks, with a friendly ‘Welcome to Night Vale’ thrown in. But today I am very, very worried. I haven’t seen or heard from Carlos in over a week. He hasn’t even been on Facebook. I know I’m probably being paranoid, everyone goes missing from time to time. It’s just the way the world and the Sheriff’s Secret Police work, yadda, yadda, yadda. But this doesn’t feel like the standard emergency kidnapping. This… this is… emptiness. This is… I can’t. I don’t know why, but… I can’t. I’m sorry. Sorry. I’m being paranoid. Carlos is… probably caught up in some experiment. Yea. An experiment. Nothing to worry about. Nothing. Nothing...

"In other news, I received a call a couple weeks ago from an unknown number. Which is pretty strange, as all phone numbers are now known intrinsically by each Night Vale resident for safety purposes. Anyway, when I picked up, no one spoke. The only sound that made its way through receivers, and towers, and stone circles, and receivers again, and finally to my ears, was music. Strange music, which seemed like it would be more suitable to a Renaissance Fair or May Day celebration than anything. After a few short moments, it stopped. I’m not sure who called me or why I still feel so unnerved despite the time that has passed, but I’m sure everything will turn out fine. I'm sure of it. I'm sure. Now on to the Community Calendar…”


End file.
